I don't blame Susan for my misery in this situation, or for the fact that I cannot see how anyone can support themselves on $20/day... But I do blame her for something.

Every time we talked she would duckspeak the same little dance about how it will feel good to have a job and that will make thing easier... And if that were it, I'd be ok with it, but she'd go on for hours if I didn't tell her that she sounded drunk and was repeating herself.

And now, all that sugar coating has turned to vinegar. And I really dislike that particular taste. But this is metaphor, so it doesn't matter. Anyways, now every memory of her blathering on how this would be a good thing seeps caustic liquid, and adds that much needed spice of insult to this already terrible injury (figurative).

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I just spent 24hrs asleep after my second shift of moving things.

They sat us through 3 days of training, which they neglected to tell us many things that would be useful (I suspect because there's no answer, that if given as policy, would not get them sued). [Example: How do I get to the belly of the truck when the side by me is filled with boxes and the only way to the other side is by sliding along the rollers?]

I am glad I purchased gloves. They've already saved me from what would be nasty cuts twice (once in the previous example..). Knee pads were another good investment...

I cannot bring in a flashlight (because of their theft policies), so I'm thinking of getting a case of glowsticks... (I'm undecided if I'm going to become a raver in order to use the excess...)

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It seems that every time I turn around there's another tiny little dagger in my back. The person running the applications/orientation did not mention that we'd all be seasonal until late into the orientation (3rd day of the process). It would not be such a terrible thing if he hadn't been praising and pushing the benefits that he knew we would not get.

And every time thereafter that someone mentions a benefit that is delayed/lost due to this "seasonal" label, I feel that little tinge of betrayal.

Add to this that we were made to sit and watch training videos and stuff for three days, and when we finally got around to doing the work it became apparent that not only does nobody else use any of the rules we were taught, but if we try and abide from them we will be BURIED ALIVE*.

*In our first week of handling, we were to be expected to move no more than about 100 packages an hour. This "expectation" however, does not stop the flow of boxes into our trucks... and when we're in the belly section, there is really no other place for the boxes to go than on top of our heads.

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Oh well, the last job hunt was moved along by emotional suffering and ultimatums... let's see if physical pain can help the next search...


-Evan